


Beyond My Place

by I_Gave_You_Fair_Warning



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternative Biology, Desire to Die, Despair, Drug Withdrawal, Dystopia, Ending Includes Hope for Obi-Wan, F/M, Forced Bonding, Forced Childbearing, Harems, Implied Rough Oral Sex, Knotting, M/M, Mpreg, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Obi-Wan Does Not Believe He Can Say No, Oral Knotting, Painful Sex, Sex Horror, Society-Driven Power Imbalance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-22
Updated: 2017-08-22
Packaged: 2018-12-18 15:51:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11877813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_Gave_You_Fair_Warning/pseuds/I_Gave_You_Fair_Warning
Summary: Twenty-six year old Knight Kenobi loves Qui-Gon Jinn with all his soul. The alpha loves him in return. That is what this means.Love is painful. It leaves an empty ache in Obi-Wan's soul... but perhaps that's just his problem. If his alpha is satisfied, that is heaven. This is what Qui-Gon tells him, and somewhere, deep inside, Obi-Wan believes it.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Those of you fond of my other QuiObi a/b/o story: this is far more sinister. If you want Qui-Gon to be the hero, you may want to reread that one instead. Qui-Gon here is vile in a way he was not in canon or EU, simply to up the angst and horror factor.

 

The first time Qui-Gon took him was gentle. Obi-Wan had never felt so wonderful in all his life.

Right up until the end.

His small body was already stretched as far as it could go to accommodate Jinn's girth.

Qui-Gon's fingers tightened painfully around his hips as he let loose a low growl and slammed into Obi-Wan with vicious single-mindedness.

Obi-Wan conceded, submitted, his body telling his mind he  _ needed _ —

Qui-Gon came inside him, heat and pressure within.

And then his knot began to inflate.

Two seconds later, Obi-Wan knew he was in trouble.

Seven seconds later, he began to wonder if he was going to die there.

He whimpered, mind blanking out from pain as Qui-Gon held him still.

Still it expanded.

Should he try to escape now, he would bleed out on the floor.

And then it stopped. Obi-Wan, gasping— not from pleasure anymore, all pleasure was long gone— thought maybe he would survive the next half hour  _ if _ he didn't move. If he could still his breathing, still his trembling, maybe,  _ maybe  _ he would make it.

“So pretty, my omega. Sitting on my knot,” Qui-Gon purred. “Where you are supposed to be, where you were meant to be.” He leaned closer, whispering into Obi-Wan's ear, “Where you were  _ born  _ to be.”

Obi-Wan couldn't help but wonder if that was truly all he was good for, by birth condemned to have no more worth than as a sex toy and breeder.

He thought he could feel Qui-Gon's seed taking hold. It was his imagination, of course, but he  _ felt  _ it all the same, and with it, panic from being trapped, held down, Qui-Gon's weight pinning him to the bed, arms caging him, knot keeping him helplessly, hopelessly chained.

He closed his eyes against the need to try to get away, to bolt—

Qui-Gon traced his eyelid with a tongue.

“So worried, so afraid,” Qui-Gon crooned. “It's alright, little omega... you are mine now. The only cock you endure is  _ mine. _ ” He rocked, a tiny movement, it dragged an agonized cry from Obi-Wan's lips. “You will beg for it every time your heat comes. You will beg, you will spread your legs for me, and I will take you, stretch you,  _ break you  _ on my cock and you will bear my offspring. They will be beautiful, because  _ you  _ are beautiful. You were made to breed. Frip you 'till you scream.”

Qui-Gon's hands traced over his neck, shoulders, down to caress his buttocks.

“And I will take good care of you,” he whispered. “So good for me, so  _ good  _ for me, not a protest—” Qui-Gon's massive hand curled around his cock, dry, rough, painful.

“Please,” Obi-Wan gasped, intending to follow it with a  _ no,  _ but Qui-Gon's other hand covered his mouth.

“Patience,” he soothed. “Soon. You will come soon. Many alphas do not allow their omegas to come. They think it too much effort. If the omega comes from penetration or his own efforts, fine, but they do not deign to offer pleasure. But you are my good little omega, impaled on my knot.”

The rough pace only eased by what little precome Qui-Gon managed to collect also moved Qui-Gon's arm too much, which moved his hips. Agony pulsed through Obi-Wan, nearly blocking out the discomfort of his cock as Qui-Gon poured his own pleasure through their bond and into Obi-Wan's mind.

His body couldn't take it, the overwhelming stimulus warring with his brain's commands— not  _ his  _ brain, but  _ Qui-Gon's— _

Obi-Wan shuddered as he came, feeling his walls contract around Qui-Gon's knot—

He had to be bleeding. Didn't he? Could something hurt this  _ terribly  _ and  _ not  _ have torn him open?

“Such a good little omega, so pretty when he comes.”

Qui-Gon stroked his body, murmuring praises and possessive objectifications the while. Several minutes— a lifetime later— Qui-Gon's cock was hardening again, his alpha body designed to rut into an omega three— four— perhaps  _ five  _ times before the knot subsided.

Qui-Gon rocked against Obi-Wan, the younger man whimpering in pain the while.

“I know, I know,” Qui-Gon soothed. “Such a good omega, taking it all for me. Wait until I knot in your mouth, hold your jaw and throat open half an hour, wait until I see you weep for air, needing my cock, kept conscious by my mind not yours— You'll break your jaw on my knot, have to soak in bacta, so beautiful, not complaining, you know whose you are—”

His pace quickened, his cock began to slide, the knot hitting against the inside of Obi-Wan's hole, then driving in deeper; he hadn't thought it possible, Qui-Gon fripping desperately into him—

“Surrender to me, omega. You're resisting me, you're tense. Go limp.  _ Now. _ ”

There was an alpha growl in the command, and Obi-Wan's body instinctively obeyed, allowing the violation to continue unopposed.

“ _ Yes, _ ” Qui-Gon hissed. “Such a good omega.” He came again, falling still once more.

“How many— do you usually—”

Qui-Gon smirked, tracing fingers down his cheek. “Six times, little omega. You will be  _ so  _ full by the time I'm done.”

Six? Sweet  _ Force  _ no—

“I will not leave you wanting.”

The third time Obi-Wan realized he would have to check out to survive, but didn't quite make it.

The fourth time he did.

And the fifth.

By the sixth, the knot had gone down a little, enough for Jinn's frantic rutting to tear the knot  _ out  _ of his body and force it back in again and again and again.

This time, semen leaked from his body around the cock. He couldn't see it, but he could feel its wet ooze.

Qui-Gon waited for the knot to die out, and then withdrew from Obi-Wan, but even as the younger man tried to move, a hand on his chest stopped him, and something slipped into his abused hole.

A plug.

“Tighten for me,” Qui-Gon directed.

Obi-Wan tried, but the muscles were trembling from what had been inflicted on them, he couldn't make them obey—

Qui-Gon grabbed Obi-Wan's cock and his body jolted in horror, desperation, please no—

His ass closed around the plug, sealing it inside.

It hurt.

“I held back, given this is your first experience,” Qui-Gon explained, giving Obi-Wan's cock one last friendly twist before leaning back to look at his masterpiece. “I took a targeted muscle relaxant.”

Obi-Wan looked up at him, eyes dull, mind near dead from pain lasting too long.

“Next time I  _ will  _ hook you. But your first heat only lasts today, so we don't have time. Next heat, we begin in earnest.”

He stood to go clean himself off, to eat, to lounge around the Temple feeling smug and satisfied because he'd taken his omega and fripped his  _ brains  _ out.

Obi-Wan, still trembling, gingerly rolled over, moaning the while, and tried to find sleep.

It took hours of exhaustion to claim him, he still wasn't asleep before Qui-Gon returned and tumbled into bed beside him, dragging him close with a forearm.

Obi-Wan felt his rut-heavy cock pressing against his ass, and wondered what Qui-Gon would do about it.

He slept, at first.

And then, in the middle of the night, Qui-Gon rubbed up against him and awoke. Rough hands pulled the plug from his anus, fingers probed; it  _ hurt,  _ oh, Master, it  _ hurt— _

Qui-Gon cursed. “My knot would slide out of you,” he grumbled. “I'll have to go find a public omega in the street. Come with me. You must see what life I have saved you from.”

The plug was thrust back in, and Obi-Wan struggled to don clothes and follow his master's quick strides out the door. He thought he would die, his head spinning, something leaking down his thigh, the pain—

He leaned heavily against the wall of the turbolift as they went down. Qui-Gon didn't seem to notice, too rut-drunk to care about anything but his need to knot.

They spilled out into the street, Qui-Gon scenting the air and fast walking down a side lane.

Obi-Wan stumbled after him, as if chained to his hand—

And then Qui-Gon paused, turned to a man walking by.

Obi-Wan inhaled. The man was not in heat.

Qui-Gon bared his teeth, and the man recoiled, trembling, and as Qui-Gon stepped closer, teeth still bared, he sank to his knees.

With a low whine, the omega's thighs parted and Obi-Wan could smell it.

Slick.

A week before or after a heat, heat could legally be induced again, by any interested alpha. The law was to keep unowned omegas safe, so that instead of seeking out shadowy places to sate their need where alphas might harm them, they could be serviced in the public streets.

Qui-Gon soon had the man's pants down far enough to take him.

Obi-Wan swayed, leaned against a building's wall—

But he couldn't keep his feet. He sank to the ground, curled in on himself, and watched with glazed eyes, since his alpha had commanded.

The other omega seemed stunned by the size of the knot, but his body was bigger. It didn't destroy him. Instead, he keened in pleasure, rocking back and praising Qui-Gon's girth, begging incoherently for Qui-Gon to own him.

Obi-Wan wondered if someday he might just be one of a harem. Whether Qui-Gon would lay claim to others, or satisfy his needs as a public service.

By the time Qui-Gon pulled free, other alphas had gathered to wait. Three of them, attracted by the scent and omega's cries. The omega looked up with need-stricken eyes and parted his legs for the next in line. The alpha drove into him, setting a hard, fast pace that the omega encouraged with loud praise.

One alpha crouched by Obi-Wan, sniffed at his ass, his throat, then reluctantly stood and moved away.

Obi-Wan had been claimed; he was a mate.

Obi-Wan was safe.

“On your feet, little omega. One more, and then home.”

The next one Qui-Gon took in the middle of a thoroughfare. Traffic diverted around them except for a few curious onlookers, and a waiting alpha, whose pants could barely contain his need to rut.

Obi-Wan passed out on the walk home.

Qui-Gon must have carried him back, because he next found himself lying on the bed, beneath Qui-Gon's heavy body, still smelling of other omegas.

_ Some day I will be enough for you. Some day I will match you, need for rut. _

 

* * *

 

The last of Obi-Wan's heat was gone the following morning, and Qui-Gon permitted him to take out the plug in the shower. Semen tinged red with Obi-Wan's blood flowed down his thighs, the scent of it filling Obi-Wan's nostrils.

The water washed it away, as if it had never been.

Obi-Wan loved Qui-Gon Jinn with all his heart. He was now Qui-Gon's only bonded possession. He smiled faintly in the mirror. He'd been told by experienced omegas that he would enjoy the process. Maybe once he'd been through it enough times, his body adjusting, permanently stretching—

Yes. One day he would enjoy it.

For now, what mattered was leaving his alpha satisfied. Everything else came secondary to that.

He left the refresher and presented his ass when Qui-Gon prompted so he could inspect Obi-Wan's rear.

“Not as much tearing as I expected,” Qui-Gon announced, sounding pleased. “You're so tiny, so tight and sweet for me, Obi-Wan.”

Obi-Wan beamed at him, especially as Qui-Gon sent tiny tendrils of relief through his pained body, taking the edge off.

He didn't even mind it when Anakin knocked at the door, and Qui-Gon traipsed off with him for the day.

Didn't mind it a bit.

 

* * *

 

It never stopped hurting.

Five years in, Obi-Wan finally realized that he was simply  _ too small an omega  _ for Qui-Gon's size of alpha.

When he'd hesitantly broached the subject,  _ asking  _ instead of  _ saying,  _ sounding plaintive, “Could I be too small for you?” he was shut down.

Qui-Gon liked his omegas tiny. Obi-Wan should be pleased, because he was the only one Qui-Gon had found tiny enough to be worth keeping.

After that, he tried to embrace the pain. Qui-Gon liked him the way he was. If it stopped hurting, it would mean he wasn't tight enough anymore, and Qui-Gon would keep him only out of charity.

A year later, he'd managed to convince himself the excruciating pain was alright.

Anakin was sixteen years old when he walked in on a rut. He'd turned to leave them be, when Qui-Gon spoke up, “Stay. I'll be done in a moment.”  
He'd knotted Obi-Wan, then asked, “What was it you needed?”  
Anakin's gaze swept over the naked omega as was his right, young though the alpha might be. It's not like he hadn't seen rutting in the streets.

Maybe even tried his hand at it, once or twice.

That's usually how alphas learned. They would corner an unmated omega in a not-very-visible space, command them to present, and learn how to frip properly.

Or so Obi-Wan had heard.

Anakin asked his question— higher mathematics trouble— and Qui-Gon answered, voice rumbling against Obi-Wan's back as Obi-Wan sat on his knot and waited for the fourth rut to strike his former master.

He didn't realize then what would happen later.

 

* * *

 

The evening of Anakin's eighteenth birthday, Qui-Gon brought him back to their quarters. He'd told Obi-Wan he would, and Obi-Wan had assumed they would make dinner, have a celebration—

Apparently, though, Qui-Gon intended to teach Anakin the mysteries of being an alpha.

The first Obi-Wan heard of it was there was a strange, new alpha demand tearing at his womb, and then he was spilling slick down his legs. A low growl, and he was on his knees, suddenly desperate to be bred.

Two men came into view, Anakin looking pleased and stunned, and Qui-Gon looking proud.

Qui-Gon had him simply pull down Obi-Wan's waistband to frip him that first time.

Anakin's cock was slender and didn't hurt.

It  _ didn't hurt. _

In fact, when it hit his prostate, he whimpered in pleasure and need. Was this what  _ other  _ omegas experienced?

Anakin was clumsy and came soon, knot swelling up.

Obi-Wan braced himself for hell—

But the knot was only pleasantly full. Just under Qui-Gon's unknotted girth, and nowhere near in danger of damaging Obi-Wan's body.

He wouldn't be able to pull it from his body, but if it was torn from him, he wouldn't die on the floor, thrashing helplessly as his blood slipped from him too fast to repair.

That was when Anakin began undressing him, as best he could from Obi-Wan's position on his hands and knees. Obi-Wan assisted where directed, feeling the knot shift and dig and pull— and  _ oh,  _ it was rubbing his prostate  _ every time— _

He wanted to cling to Anakin, drag him closer—

And then Anakin was ready again, fripping him from within—

It felt heavenly, with Qui-Gon's quiet direction and approval spilling over him—

And then his hooks set. Obi-Wan gasped at their suddenness, before Anakin had even come again—

But he stilled as the hooks demanded, buried deep in the walls of his ass, the pain causing his body to convulse down around the cock, allowing Anakin to come.

Qui-Gon always came,  _ then  _ set his hooks, to have Obi-Wan's body milk out the last of his seed.

Maybe that was a technique learned as an alpha aged.

Obi-Wan knew better than to move a  _ centimeter  _ while the hooks remained, but Anakin didn't. He shifted position, retreated a bit—

Obi-Wan screamed as the hooks tore the inside of his passage.

Anakin paused, the hooks instinctively retreating, then, at Qui-Gon's direction, he reset them.

Obi-Wan shivered anew under their sliding into muscle.

He didn't understand the hooks. To him, they seemed to be ways to torment an Omega, to force one into simulating orgasm, to further pleasure an alpha. The knot kept them from separating, and should it be pulled out early, seed would not take. The hooks allowed them to tear and harm without having to use the knot to do it, and thereby lose their seed.

After all, when status was largely affected by the number of infants sired...

Well. At least Obi-Wan didn't have to face  _ failure  _ in that line. He might not enjoy the process, either the impregnating or the invasive surgery that took the embryos from him so he could be impregnated again in a matter of weeks, but he  _ was  _ fertile _.  _ Even more so than most, and the fact he gave Qui-Gon power and prestige allowed him to see content in Qui-Gon's eyes.

To know he'd done well.

Obi-Wan had lost track of the litters he'd borne Qui-Gon Jinn. He  _ had  _ seen a few little ones with Qui-Gon's tattoo on their faces, visible proof of his line, the tiny mark signifying Obi-Wan had been the dam.

People were starting to take notice. Especially since Obi-Wan seemed to produce healthy, strong offspring, Force-sensitive and smart.

Soon he would earn a special collar, one that would let everyone who saw him know he was in the top percentile of breeders.

And wouldn't Qui-Gon be proud then?

As Anakin finished his fourth orgasm and then clumsily pulled free, Obi-Wan couldn't help but wonder if he would bear Skywalkers next.

And then Qui-Gon was there, fripping him hard, fast, and all memory of pleasure vanished against the agonizing pain.

Anakin stood by and watched carefully, trying to learn what he could.

Qui-Gon pulled free, and Anakin was ready again.

Obi-Wan gasped for air, the heat having taken over his body. He could endure this all night long.

And he did.

And then, in the early morning, Qui-Gon Jinn fripped down his throat, and once more, broke his jaw.

Obi-Wan submitted, as always, accepting the pain as his due.

The price he paid for Qui-Gon's love.

 

* * *

 

Every heat after that he had two alphas to satisfy. Instead of having breaks in between Qui-Gon's ruts, he would take them alternating, never empty for more than a few moments in a day or night. Only excepting the alphas' need to sleep, Obi-Wan would endure a week of fripping.

He bore litters or didn't, as the fates willed, some of them looked like Skywalkers, others like Jinns. The tattoos were applied as the genetics tests dictated, adding to either dynasty, and definitely to Obi-Wan's legacy.

Obi-Wan never saw them, they were always carved from his womb before they had a chance to grow. Never once was he allowed to carry one to term.

Jinn didn't want his stomach stretching out, so they finished their gestation artificially.

Jinn also had no interest in claiming them. Their pedigree was assured, writ in stone, Qui-Gon would receive acclaim for their accomplishments—

There really was no other purpose for them.

So Obi-Wan spread his legs to conceive.

Again... again... again.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this story, Aayla Secura is Anakin's age, both in their early twenties.

 

The Clone War had dragged every available Jedi out into the field. Oftentimes Obi-Wan, gold achievement collar proudly around his throat, was sent in a different direction than his alphas, but one or the other always made sure to locate him on his heat.

He never once missed a mating.

At first he hated the war, and then he came to dread the day it would end.

Then he'd go back to servicing both alphas each heat.

It was a guilt he was slowly learning to accept, hoping, praying for Anakin Skywalker to be closest during those fevered days. He didn't love the second alpha. He didn't, so he hated himself for wanting him over Qui-Gon, but at least moments in his care weren't  _ hell. _

He also seemed to refuse to take omegas in the streets. Obi-Wan suspected that the younger man simply waited until he could be with Obi-Wan again, which confused the omega greatly. Qui-Gon took what he willed when he willed it. If Obi-Wan was between heats, and could not take his blood-letting knot for fear of damaging the embryo, he would go wherever the urge led him and come home reeking of other omegas. 

Obi-Wan would sigh, wish his body was not so weak, would not so violently reject this man's advances.

Maybe then he would be enough.

_ Except he wouldn't want me at all, then. _

So he painted a brave smile on his face, and returned to the medics yet again to carve the little ones from his body.

 

* * *

 

There came a month when neither Anakin nor Qui-Gon could get to him.

His mate sent a message to Obi-Wan's commander, explaining he did not want his omega to lose his edge. At the age of thirty-seven, if Obi-Wan was not kept full, his body would likely begin to adjust to the intended non-child-bearing age.

_ And once I can no longer add to his prestige, he will be forced to take a second or third omega. _

It was pure luck and mercy on Qui-Gon's part that he hadn't already.

It was strange to give himself to Cody. To stare into a face that had no dam mark, just Jango's proud sire scar around his eye.

Three  _ million. _

The alpha had certainly outdone a galaxy, and the alphas who knew of it felt the insult keenly.

Obi-Wan wondered what the child being conceived now would bear on  _ its  _ face. It would probably be a mark similar to Jango's, but all Cody's own.

_ How many have you sired?  _ Obi-Wan wondered.

It was difficult after that. The chain of command felt broken, and Cody no longer held on to the cool professionalism that had marked his obedience to the omega.

Worse, the other clones began to openly appraise Obi-Wan's body, to murmur to each other where even Obi-Wan could hear them, and yes, to even make advances.

They seemed to think that if being mated meant you belonged exclusively to someone unless his permission was given to another, and they were Obi-Wan's property to live and die as he saw fit, that there should be some correlation.

That since they were Obi-Wan's possessions, they couldn't be seen as poaching on Qui-Gon Jinn's territory.

And when his mate found out, instead of feeling insulted or put off, Qui-Gon simply laughed, looked proud of the mate who still looked young despite all the children he had borne, and gave permission to any and all of the 212 th , as long as it was between heats.

Qui-Gon's bloodline still had precedence.

That was the day the last of military procedure shattered.

 

* * *

 

Obi-Wan was proud of Anakin the day he brought home a Padawan.

And he was ready the day she turned eighteen, just in case.

It turned out to be an accurate assumption.

When Anakin brought her to Obi-Wan's room and she hesitantly commanded Obi-Wan to kneel, he sent her a quiet smile.

He could sense she felt almost as much fear as he had his first time.

And afterwards, she murmured a quiet, “I'm sorry,” in his ear before she left the room.

“You sure you don't want to stay?” Anakin asked, baffled. “He's aging, but he can still take his—”

She'd raised her chin, looked Obi-Wan in the eye, and said through a ferocious blush, “I do not love him. I only wish to knot an omega I love. Once was enough to make that very clear to me.”

Obi-Wan sent her a quiet nod. One of pride, of respect.

He pleasured Anakin the rest of the night through, and as Obi-Wan knew his secondary alpha to be flagging, both anticipating sleep just around the corner, Qui-Gon walked in the door, someone by his side.

Someone bearing his scent.

Obi-Wan's heart stopped.

“Obi-Wan, this is Aayla. Currently your heats hit at the same time, but we're going to stagger them, since I do not want to deny you in your old age.”

_ I only miscarried twice. _

But that was four children Qui-Gon  _ didn't  _ have added to his prestige.

_ I understand. _

Aayla would make up his deficiencies, and there would be more as the years progressed.

Dimly he was aware of Anakin thrusting into him, but all Obi-Wan could see was Qui-Gon undressing his new mate, adoring her body, and taking her deep.

She shuddered with pleasure and cooed into his mouth.

And Obi-Wan's heart shattered.

 

* * *

 

Home had become crowded.

Between the beautiful woman who seemed to crave sex all the time and attempted to seduce either alpha that walked through the front door no matter when her heat might fall, and Rex, the solitary clone omega who Anakin had brought into the fold and was shared as well, soon bearing Qui-Gon's mate mark....

Obi-Wan's body felt brittle and worn out, and though Aayla seemed set on seducing him as well, he couldn't bring himself to endure her caresses.

She was the only one he could say no to...

So say no he did.

He hated her glorious curves, the way when she stepped into the room Qui-Gon's gaze was caught and never returned to Obi-Wan.

Anakin caught him late one night, standing naked before the mirror in the refresher, staring at his failing body and wishing he had plump, soft breasts. Perhaps hips as curved as hers. At least lekku, to sweep across his ass?

He'd tried to moan more when Qui-Gon took him, tried to pretend to love it, tried the open-mouthed groaning that Aayla used, but Qui-Gon had covered his mouth with his hand.

The one thing Obi-Wan  _ could  _ control to try to make Qui-Gon love him again, and he was commanded not to use it. Qui-Gon didn't want it.

Anakin wrapped his arms around Obi-Wan's waist, pressing a kiss to his neck. “You are beautiful,” he promised, meeting Obi-Wan's eyes in the mirror.

“I'm reaching the end of my usefulness.”  
“We won't abandon you.”  
_ No. I'll just sit in the corner and watch as you move on to newer, younger omegas. As I see children running down the halls with Qui-Gon's tattoo, but not my mark. _

“Aayla's too loose. She takes him too easy. You know he'll keep making love to you long after you fall barren.”

But without Heat's desperation... how could he  _ survive  _ Qui-Gon's severity?

And what would the  _ point  _ be, when Qui-Gon no longer loved him?

He let Anakin cuddle him close with promises of devotion and assurances of relevance, but Obi-Wan knew what his future looked like.

And the next time he faced off against Ventress alone, he lowered his blade to allow her free access to his heart.

 

* * *

 

Ventress pulled her lightsaber up just short of piercing the unprotected chest.

“You want to kill me,” Obi-Wan pleaded, eyes bloodshot, tear-swollen, his body gaunt, heavy bruises beneath his eyes. “Just do it.”  
“What is the trick?” Ventress asked, suspicious. This wasn't the opponent she knew. The one who threw casual innuendo her way and flaunted his body. The man who never admitted to fear in her presence, who never really valued her as a threat to his life.

Even when disarmed he would laugh at her.

She was a centimeter from killing him, and yet the laughter was gone. He watched her with hopeless, broken eyes.

“No trick. Take what you want.”

Ventress pulled her saber away, baffled and  _ not  _ pleased. If he  _ let  _ her kill him, that would take all the  _ accomplishment  _ out of it. She would have proven nothing.

There was no  _ point. _

“When did you realize Dooku doesn't love you? And when did you begin to suspect that he never did? Or— no, I forget. You weren't his first omega, were you? He must have worn out many in his time.”

Ventress stared at him. “Have you finally gone mad? You want to die because your alpha doesn't love you?”

But instead of despising him, Ventress felt something terrible inside herself.

She knew of what he spoke.

The desperate allegiance, the euphoric belief you mattered.

The creeping, dawning realization that you'd been wrong.

“I lie awake listening to him whisper the same endearments I clung to into other ears. The rest of his harem try so hard to be kind. They pity me. They know someday they'll be in my place.”

“You won't be forgotten,” Ventress pointed out. “You've spawned a number beyond what most could ever hope to achieve.”

Yes.

She remembered the moment the Count decided her worthless.

The moment they discovered her barren.

She eyed the band around Obi-Wan's throat with envy.

When she died, there would be no one to remember. No one bearing her mark in the universe.

“I don't care. I just want him.”  
Ventress watched him for a long moment in silence. The pounding footsteps of clones signaled it was time to leave.

As she turned to dart away, she saw the fathomless misery that flooded Obi-Wan's eyes at their approach.

In that moment, something was born in Asajj Ventress she never would have believed possible.

Pity for Obi-Wan Kenobi.

 

* * *

 

“I nearly let Ventress kill me.”  
Satine drew in a steady breath, even if her heart was pounding in her throat. She continued walking, Obi-Wan moving by her side, oblivious to the scenery while pretending to be engrossed by it.

“She spooked and fled.” Obi-Wan sighed. “I'm just so tired, Satine.”

“You could move to Mandalore,” she suggested.

“Why would I want  _ random  _ alphas to take me in the streets when I at least have a home and—”

“Alphas are not allowed to take omegas by default on Mandalore. And no one is allowed to frip in the street.” Not anymore. Not under her rule.

“So I could move here and  _ suffer  _ the rest of my life?” Obi-Wan scoffed.

“He's keeping you drugged, Obi-Wan.”

Obi-Wan's eyes narrowed. “Satine.”  
“An alpha's hooks, they  _ carry  _ it. When the hooks are set, a drug is released. It creates utter dependence in the omega. I have the research, Obi-Wan, I've had Mandalorian scientists confirm it. It's being repressed, Obi-Wan. This is  _ known  _ and it's being  _ hidden. _ ”

“ _ But—  _ even that  _ first heat—  _ no hooks, Satine,  _ I knew  _ what I needed—”

“You'd been told all your life what you would need. But did  _ you  _ feel this need, or was Qui-Gon whispering in your ear that you wanted this, _ liked  _ this, when maybe you were in pain—”

Obi-Wan turned snarling eyes to her. “Don't you  _ dare.  _ I have a  _ good alpha.  _ I have a  _ home. _ I'm not taken by every stranger in the street, I'm  _ protected,  _ I have alphas who take  _ good care of me  _ through my heats, and they don't even make me carry the litters full term. I have a  _ good life,  _ Satine, better than  _ most  _ omegas in this galaxy, and even though I'm aging out, they aren't  _ casting  _ me out, like they have every right to—”

“I'm saying omegas deserve the same  _ basic rights  _ as all other designations.”  
Obi-Wan stared at her. “You're an alpha. Why would it  _ matter _ ?”

“Because they're sentients too.  _ You  _ are sentient too. Because alphas are pampered under the current social system, and because that needs to be  _ challenged  _ and  _ changed.  _ Mandalore is a safe place, Obi-Wan. Our omegas are not bred by  _ default,  _ they do not belong to  _ mates  _ by default. We have many single omegas with vibrant careers who do  _ not  _ turn to alphas in their heats.” 

“Suppressors?”

“No. They're no longer being fed a steady stream of the naturally-occurring—”

“ _ Hook drug,  _ yes, I  _ heard  _ you. Qui-Gon wouldn't  _ do  _ that to me.”

“He probably doesn't know.” Satine shrugged. “Still doesn't mean it's okay.”

Obi-Wan sent her a worried look. “Why would you believe something so  _ implausible _ ?”

“Because I've seen the data, Obi-Wan. And I've seen what omegas weaned from the drug can  _ do.  _ You can't force an omega into an early, late, or second or third heat if they're not dosed up on that drug. And without its clouding influence, omegas can learn to resist alpha commands. I have seen omegas commanded to kneel and serve, seen them spit in the alpha's eye, physically fight them off when they tried to insist, and walk away  _ without  _ slick.”

The disbelief hesitated in Obi-Wan's face.  _ Believe me. Please. Please escape this before it kills you. _

“Does he love you, Obi-Wan?”

Tears filled the omega's eyes and his gaze shied away.

“Do you love the home you have built with him? Why would you prefer death to life with him?”

Obi-Wan did not reply.

“You can have more. Something different. If you don't like it, you could always try something else, but Obi-Wan, if you never  _ try  _ for happiness? How is that good?”  
“If I leave, they will hunt me down and take me back. You can't just  _ walk away  _ from your mated alpha.”

“Mandalore will provide you sanctuary.”  
“He would  _ kill  _ you, Satine.”  
“He would find himself in a very disastrous place should he do such a thing.”

“He won't  _ care _ !” Obi-Wan protested. “You think that when he sees another alpha is sheltering the omega who betrayed him by running away that he's going to consider a prison sentence for murder? He  _ will not care,  _ you will be dead, and I will be back where I was, only  _ worse. _ ”

“Tell me you  _ don't  _ want something better.”  
Obi-Wan couldn't meet her gaze.

“Tell me that the thought of being able to say  _ no  _ to those clones who use you doesn't thrill you.”

“Stop,” Obi-Wan whispered. “It's hell enough, without dreams of  _ better  _ to make the night darker.”

Satine turned to face him, catching his chin with her forefinger and raising it so his eyes would meet hers. “Give the word, and I will fight for you.”

“If he comes close to recapturing me, I'm going to end it.”  
“Does that mean you'll run?”  
“Yes.”

Satine felt hope spill through her soul.

 

* * *

 

As he hid in the dark, as Satine's people removed his father's tattoo from his face, as they cleaned his scent of Qui-Gon's claim, he shuddered in fear and something that bordered on desire.

Be his  _ own  _ person?

Choose who to bed, who to not?

Choose if he's the only one a pair of lips whisper endearments to, instead of just one of many?  
The thought felt... electrifying.  _ I want out. _

He'd known that when he begged Ventress to end him.

But maybe there  _ was  _ a way, other than cleaving, searing pain punching through his heart and leaving him to die alone on the ground.

Maybe he could be more than he was born to be.

 

* * *

 

Those hopes crumpled in the face of his withdrawal.

“This is an unfulfilled heat!” Obi-Wan raged in Satine's face. “What are you  _ doing  _ to me?”

She gently pressed him down into a chair, recognizing the trembling in his hands, the sweat beading his brow, the frantic look in his eye. “No, Obi-Wan, this is withdrawal. It will get better.”  
“It's a  _ heat,  _ frip you!”

“Darling, a heat is meant to be a stretch of time when you are fertile.  _ Not  _ take away your free will by your body dumping an aphrodisiac through your system. You are chemically compelled that way. Once your body has cleared the foreign contaminants, the pain will lessen.”

He suffered in silence then, but two days later he was rubbing himself up against her,  _ begging  _ her to knot him.

She  _ wanted  _ to, so  _ badly,  _ and dear  _ Force  _ the scents that were spilling out of him—

But no.

And saying no she retreated, sending instead her beta handmaiden to nudge him into a shower that could bring down his dangerously high temperature, to ensure he was drinking water, to make sure he didn't harm himself.

But she stood outside the door as sentinel, not entirely convinced he wouldn't try to escape.

He tried, twice.

Both times she talked him back into his room.

His agony was cruel to behold, and a hush had fallen over the palace in sympathy.

It was her faithful handmaiden who suggested that instead, they should have the omegas who had walked this path and come through the other side tend to him, so he could  _ see  _ hope.

_ Why didn't I think of that? _

But Satine knew why.

His scent was maddening.

When she asked for volunteers among her most trusted guards, she discovered they had no lack.

Under their ministrations, Obi-Wan survived his fortnight of torment, body weakened and drained by the end.

He lay exhausted, unable to lift his hand, apparently broken, but his eyes clearer than Satine had ever seen them. The slight haze was gone, and a sparkle had entered she'd never seen before.

One of defiance and endurance.

And that's when Satine knew they were going to make it.

Jinn and Skywalker might fight to get their slave back, but a planet of liberated omegas and the alphas who loved them was going to fight to keep him free.

_ Never again,  _ she swore.  _ Never again will you be made to be less than what you are. _

_Never._

 

 


End file.
